


We Share Our Heartbeats

by FuneralCake



Series: It Feels More Like a Memory [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Do-Over, Feels, Fix-It, Gen, Prologue, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuneralCake/pseuds/FuneralCake
Summary: They fall asleep to a dying world.No one screams. No one fights again. They are all too spent. Too broken. To weary.When the great sage came, it was far too late to save the world they lived in.
Relationships: Ootsutsuki Asura & Ootsutsuki Hagoromo & Ootsutsuki Indra, Ootsutsuki Asura & Ootsutsuki Indra, Senju Hashirama & Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto
Series: It Feels More Like a Memory [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818280
Comments: 5
Kudos: 146





	We Share Our Heartbeats

"That didn't turn out so well, did it?"

Naruto stirs. He fights to open his eyes, urges his body not to succumb to the darkness. Now is not the time for relief. He had been fighting before. _What had he been fighting?_

"Is this it for you, Asura?" The voice speaks again.

It's a man. Old and gentle, yet strong. _It reminds him of another man, long long ago. Before all of this fighting began._ He _had been his only friend then._

_Friends._

The words called to him. It made something in him stir. _He had friends. People to fight for. He was fighting for friends. He was fighting **a friend** too, wasn't he _

"That's it Asura. You have people to return to, don't you?"

There he is again. Was he called Asura? He had a different name didn't he? He wasn't Asura. Hadn't been Asura in a long long time.

_He sees great beasts and sages. Power in all sorts of shape and form. He sees war and chaos and hurt. Bloodshed and death and destruction, over and over again._

_He opens different eyes to different worlds and different times. He comes to in the heart of violence, over and over again. And through it all, he sees hope._

_He remembers kindness in the most unlikely of places. Companionship and care. Camaraderie and sacrifice. Over and over again, darkness would devour his father's world and over and over again, from the heart of said darkness he'd find light. Little specks of compassion glowing like fireflies in the night._

"You remember," the voice said. "Do you remember your brother?"

He had a brother? Wasn't he an orphan? In the now that isn't. But there is more to brotherhood than blood, is there not?

_He remembers waking in different eyes, and remembers different pairs that look straight back at him. Different faces that look at him with the same grief and anger and horror. With the same envy and loathing and love in a complicated tangle that has become the norm._

Indra.

_All the very different faces of Indra that look at him. That clash swords with him. Clash blades and energy. That shed his blood and takes with him Asura's happiness._

_He is Asura's failure._

"Do you remember how you came to be here, Asura?"

_oh_

_He remembers coming to, shrieking. Remembers being aware but not. Remembers the mallevolence in the air and a taste of very familiar chakra._

_He remembers sunshine and peace and a kind old man that sounded like someone_ father _he knew from a long time ago but cannot remember. He remembers black and blue, pink and green and brilliant silver. Pleas and promises and blood on his face and burning in his lungs with every breath._

_He remembers failing. Fighting a losing battle against a madman and a goddess._

_He remembers Indra. Remembers crimson eyes and so much blood. Lightning and fire and steel and coughed up apologies._

_He remembers his father's children. Bitter and jaded and just a touch mad, desperate and grieving before they are gone. Swallowed whole._

_He remembers dying._

_Oh. ___

__His eyes flutter open, and before him stands a man he knows but does not. Who is his father but is not. _His father sealed a demon in him. Had sacrificed himself for a village he had grown to love. **His father shaped the world and all those who inhabit it.**_ He sees a soft indulgent smile on the man's face, and lines of grief and tension on his shoulders._ _

__"Asura."_ _

__"Father," the words are heavy on his tongue. It feels clumsy as it crawls out of his mouth, hesitant and unwilling._ _

__"Naruto," the man decides to say instead, eyes soft and understanding._ _

__"Sage," he responds and it is easier this way. Better. For the father he has lost millenia ago. Lifetimes ago, before he had found himself unable to move on, cursed in this endless looping cycle. "I failed."_ _

__"I failed you," the sage said. There is pain in his heart and Asura realizes this man still grieves him and his brother._ _

__"We failed the world," he decides on a compromise. There is little point in arguing, but he is nothing if not stubborn. The old man's huff of amusement means he entirely understands what Naruto is trying to do._ _

__"You can do something about it," the sage said after a moment of silence. It is an offer, perhaps a gift. There is a challenge in his eyes, a quiet promise that all hope is not lost, and he knows without doubt that Asura will fall for that. That Naruto will grab any and all opportunities to take it._ _

__There is no point in hesitance. It has cost him, lifetimes ago when he was starting a village. When he couldn't get to Indra in time. He will not hesitate again._ _

__"How much would you like to remember?" And Naruto would have been confused at what is being asked of him, but Asura has lived life after life. Has an inkling what his father, what the sage, intends to do._ _

__"What can a mortal brain handle?" The sage gives him a considering look. Analyzing and calculating, no doubt cataloguing which lifetimes matter most and which do not. Which memories count and which he could do without._ _

__"Very well."_ _

__\-----_ _

__"That didn't turn out so well, did it?"_ _

__Sasuke doesn't understand. He doesn't want to. He feels at peace, for the first time in a long time. _He feels like he could breathe.__ _

__There isn't any grief weighing him down, like molten lead filling his bones. There's nome of the hatred and anguish and _hurt_ that he cannot escape. _That he could never seem to escape.__ _

__"Will you rest now, Indra?"_ _

__The voice is clearer now. Old and weary, giving voice to the things he does not want to _cannot bare to_ feel. He knew someone. Someone who was a friend. A brother. Who had been so much better at feeling than he was._ _

__A friend._ _

__He had some of those, no matter how hard he pushed them away. No matter how he tried to keep them away. So he didn't get hurt when they're taken too._ _

___Except, one of them didn't quite know how to let go._ _ _

__"Do you remember your brother, Indra?"_ _

__He almost forgot about the voice. Who calls him by a name he cannot remember. A name that resonates deep within him, that feels right down to his very core._ _

__Indra._ _

__The thought of the name sends a ripple of awareness through him. Indra. He is _was **will always be**_ Indra._ _

___The son who was never chosen._ _ _

__He had shaped lands and carved mountains. Had struck fire and woven destruction. He had reached greatness, that left people trembling. He had.. _He had not been enough.__ _

___He had lived. Again and again. Had been tormented again and again. He had been born, always with a brother he would lose. Always with a best friend he would break. And in his first life, they had been one and the same._ _ _

__All because he could not be better. Could not be brighter. Could never be the son that his father wanted. Could never be the brother Asura needed._ _

__"Your brother would not want you thinking that, child."_ _

__He knows that voice. _Knows that guilt._ But he doesn't need that now. Not yet. Because _he_ brought up his brother. He brought up _**Asura,**_ and it makes something in him crumple._ _

__Like someone cut his strings. Like he was gutted and laid bare. Because he remembers more and more. And he remembers seeing Asura _again and again and again.__ _

___He remembers the same stupid smile. The same bright grin and lidded eyes. **The same promise of a lifetime.**_ _ _

__He remembers that smile wane. He remembers several pairs of eyes shadowed. Remembers looking at them and seeing so much _guiltpainIndranono **godPLEASENO**_ as Asura, as Madara, died in his arms._ _

__He remembers years of nurturing his hatred. Of focusing his rage at the world that forced him to live without his brother over and over again._ _

__His moon's eye plan had been about Asura as much as it had been about Izuna. He just, didn't know._ _

__He remembers driving a hand of lightning, to a younger Asura. A rawer, more open, brighter Asura._ _

__"Indra. That isn't why you're here..."_ _

__The voice reminds him again, and he thinks of here. Of where he is._ _

__He remembers battle and bone deep exhaustion._ _

__He remembers Asura, Naruto, dying. Helpless._ _

__

___He remembers dying._ _ _

__He pried his eyes open with panic. Like he just needed to open them, and he'd be okay. Alive and whole with Naruto okay._ _

__He opened his eyes and sees a very familiar in front of him. A man he had loved and hated a lifetime ago. His father who had tried his best._ _

___**His father who had failed him.** _ _ _

__"Indra."_ _

__"Why am I here," he spat out. _Why can I remember_ is what he doesn't ask._ _

___Why can't he rest._ _ _

__"I am sorry." The breath caught in his throat even though he's a hundred or so percent sure he's dead. He had dreamt of those words. Of his father admitting he was wrong._ _

__Of his father seeing Indra's worth._ _

__Of being more that the unwanted child._ _

__"I have failed you," the sage murmured. "It is time to make things right."_ _

__"Isn't it too late?" Indra sneered, wishing for all the world that his brother wasn't here. That his brother was alive. That Asura could make things right._ _

__"You can do something about it," the mad admitted tiredly. "I trust you, Indra. Both of you." He feels energy. He feels the world heave around him._ _

__He tastes chakra and time and bonds. Feels Asura by his side, coiled around his heart even as the world melted around him. Even as his father's hand laid on his forehead, ruffling his hair the way he used to when Indra was younger. Better._ _

__"Let me remember," he begged, understanding what was going in. He cannot forget. He cannot fail his brother._ _

__\-----_ _

__On the tenth of October, the world stilled. And then, like relief, it breathed again._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I got absorbed in PM Seymour's discord. >~<
> 
> Anyways. Um, this is how A Million Iterations became a thing.


End file.
